


A Tortured Heart

by Queenbemisha



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bisexual Dean Winchester, Fluff and Smut, Human Castiel, Kidnapping, M/M, Mechanic Dean, Rape/Non-con Elements, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-10-30 01:24:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10866138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenbemisha/pseuds/Queenbemisha
Summary: When Dean Winchester gets kidnapped from his home by a mysterious blue-eyed man, he must struggle for his life against countless tortures. However, his kidnapper quickly turns out to be an ally, and together they must survive and escape.





	1. The Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story I recently started working on. It is also on Wattpad if you enjoy that format more. If you want to read it on Wattpad, my username there is Queenbemisha67. I hope you enjoy. Also, I do not know how often I will update it. But I will finish it, even if I have to do so with my dying breathe. Hope you enjoy it loves!!

Dean woke up to a cold metal blade against his throat. “What the-” he cut off short when he saw the person’s eyes. 

They were blue. A brilliant blue, like the ocean and the sky met and had a child. “Please, give me all of your money, or I will kill you.” A shaky yet deep voice demanded.

“With a knife?” Dean asked, trying to delay. 

Perhaps he could somehow overpower this robber, and call the police. “I have a gun, but I figured a knife is somewhat more inviting,” the robber said, breaking Dean's thoughts.

Dean only nodded in agreement. He did not have much in the house, everything else was in his bank account. “Alright, just let me-” he was cut off as a blunt object hit his head. 

Everything went black

  
  


Dean woke up in some sort of cell.  _ Great, now I am somewhere else. Probably kidnapped. Son of a bitch, that hurt. _ Dean groaned as he arose from the cot he was laying on. He looked around. Not much to look at. A door, metal and obviously impossible to break down. A metal slot, like a pet door, was at the bottom. Probably was for food.  _ Well at least I won’t starve. _

The walls were grey, and a small window was on the wall opposite of the door. It was too small for him to fit through obviously. Maybe a cat though.

Dean sat on the cot.  _ Well this is just great. I was kidnapped, and now in some sort of prison. I hope that- crap what about Sammy? _

Dean immediately started pounding on the door. They could not have taken Sammy. They better not have. He was a sweet little ten year old. After all that crap with their dad, and finally being able to take care of him- no they could not do that to Sam. They could do what they wanted to him, as long as Sammy was safe.

Dean heard footsteps coming towards his cell. He stopped pounding on the door, not knowing who was on the other side. “Well well well, looks like the Squirrel want’s to come out and play. Alright then, let's play a game,” a man's voice spoke.

Whoever it was was either British or Scottish, Dean could not tell. The door swung open, and Dean blinked at the light. He felt a pair of handcuffs being slapped onto him, and was guided out the door.

They were in a corridor that looked like it was straight out of Hogwarts, only a lot creepier. Dean was guided to some sort of makeshift throne room. The man who was guiding him let go, only to have another person take his place. On the throne was a man with Sandy hair and eyes that screamed murder. “Hello, Dean Winchester. Sorry for the concussion, but our newest operative is, well, new. He has been punished accordingly, and will hopefully do better next time. But, for the meantime, we have you to deal with,” the man smiled.

“Look, I don’t know who you are, or what your deal is with me. Just please make sure that my little brother is OK, alright? That is all I ask,” Dean pleaded.

There is no way he was going to get away with his life, but as long as Sammy was OK, then he would be alright too. “Don’t worry, we are taking care of him. He will be fine as long as you cooperate. The name is Lucifer, by the way. Alistair!” Lucifer shouted.

Of course his name was Lucifer. Why not. A man walked into the room. Dean did not know how to describe him, only that he was evil looking. “Yesss, sir?” The man drew out his s’s in the most annoying way possible.

“Take Dean please, and teach him how we do things here,” Lucifer demanded.

Alistair grinned at Dean, who squirmed. “Hold up, what are you going to do to me?” Dean asked.

“Oh, you’ll see, pretty boy,” Alistair promised.

With a motion of his hands, the guards were escorting him out of the room. Down a hallway, up some stairs, another hallway. Dean was quickly lost, and knew that he would never be able to find his way out. With some time, maybe. 

Dean was led into a dark room. There was a table with straps on it, and a bunch of other crap that looked like it could really hurt. “Is this a sex-torture dungeon?” He questioned, nervous.

“No, unfortunately, we will get to that later. For now, we are training a newbie, and the art of torture,” Alastair grinned sinisterly. 

Dean gulped. Well, this was going to suck. Alastair beckoned to a person who Dean just now noticed was hanging around in the back of the room. He came forward. With trembling hands, he picked up a knife. He came towards Dean, who started to struggle. The man came closer. Dean saw his eyes, a beautiful blue, and realized it was the same man who kidnapped him. “I am so sorry,” he whispered, and cut Dean on his chest.

Dean couldn’t help but scream. The man cut him five more times, then dropped the knife and turned away sobbing. Alastair simply sighed. “Well, that is better than last time, when it was only two times and then you fainted. You are making progress, I will give you that.”

Dean couldn’t help but feel bad for the man.  _ What am I thinking, he is torturing me!! _ But at the same time, Dean could tell that he was a good man.  _ Probably a family business or something, how sick _ . 

Alastair picked up a knife and came towards Dean. “My turn, pretty boy,” he smiled.

Dean looked over at the blue-eyed man, who was watching with fearful eyes. A sharp pain in his thigh made him look back over to Alastair, who was slowly cutting his leg. Dean held back a scream, watching as blood soaked the table. He noticed other blood stains on the wood, and concluded that he wasn’t the first to be held down.

A slash to his foot made him scream. Alastair shushed him, putting a finger to his lips. “Now now, aren’t you just perfect,” he purred. “I guess you really are a screamer, and would you look at that, you are all tied up.”

Alastair smirked and kissed Dean on the lips. Dean stayed still. There was no way he was going to kiss this freak. Alastair finally let up, and slapped Dean. “That’s what you get for not playing fair,” he hissed.

Dean could feel a sting from where Alastair’s hand had connected to his face. He remained silent though.  _ Think of Sammy,  _ he told himself.

Alastair motioned to the blue-eyed man to come over. “Come on, Castiel, it is your turn to play with the boy-toy,” Alastair grinned.

_ His name is Castiel? What type of name is that? _ Dean wondered. He watched as Castiel shuffled over. He hesitantly picked up a knife, and looked at Dean. 

While Dean didn’t want the torture to go on, for some strange reason, he found himself trusting Castiel. It was clear he didn’t want to hurt him, and that could possibly help him escape. Castiel raised the knife, and sliced down on Dean’s chest, barely missing his heart. Dean screamed, and felt his eyes watering up.

Castiel dropped the knife and sat down on the floor, sobbing. “Please, Alastair, he is innocent. Why?” Castiel asked.

Alastair simply rolled his eyes and kicked Castiel aside. Castiel whimpered, but did nothing. Alastair came back over to Dean, and gave him a wicked smile. Dean knew that if he ever escaped, that smile would haunt his dreams. “Guess you are all mine, pretty boy,” Alastair whispered.

  
  
  


Dean woke up to the clang of his cell door. He must have passed out. Alastair had tortured him for a couple hours, then got bored and left with Castiel. However, Dean was now on a cot, not the torture table. He tried to sit up, but had to lay back down as his wounds were stinging. “I wouldn’t move if I were you,” a familiar voice said. 

Dean looked up to see Castiel standing in the doorway, a medicine bag around him and holding a bowl of water. Cas-Castiel smiled shyly. “I brought some food too. I know that you might not want to see me, but I couldn’t let you starve to death,” he whispered.

“Thank you,” Dean said, rather hoarsely.

Castiel put the bag and the bowl down on the ground. He took a wet rag and started to gently wipe away the dried blood on Dean’s chest. The water was warm, but Dean was quickly shivering. Castiel gave him an apologetic look as he continued. Dean watched Castiel’s hands move over his bare chest. He could imagine what might happen if it was just them, preferably in a large bed. Those hands running over him, that mouth kissing his, running his hands through Castiel’s hair. 

A little bit of water on his face brought Dean back. “Sorry,” Castiel apologized.

Dean simply shook his head. “Why-” he croaked.

He swallowed and tried again. “Why are you doing this?” he asked.

Castiel sighed. “I don’t like torturing people. I don’t like much of-” he gestures vaguely at the wall. “-any of this. This is evil. Five years ago, my little brother Samandriel, he made a couple of bad choices. He was too young, too innocent. He made a deal and had to come here and be apart of this gang. I took his place. At first they tortured me, but then decided to teach me the art itself”

Dean nodded, understanding. He was surprised that Castiel was willing to divulge his tale with him. “Do you know why you are here?” Castiel asked him.

Dean thought for a second. “I am not quite sure,” he whispered hoarsely, “But it might have to do with my father. My mother died in a house fire when I was fifteen, Sammy was only one. He went a little crazy after that. He owed a lot of powerful people favors, and got on a lot of bad sides. I had a half brother too, Adam. He got caught by one of these groups. I guess our father angered them somehow. Adam- he was never seen again. We had only just met him too, my brother and I.”

Castiel bowed his head for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Dean sighed. “Do you have any other family?” he asked.

Castiel nodded. “I have a big family. I have three older brothers, Gabriel, Raphael, and Michael. There was a fourth, but we were forbidden to talk about him. He died before I was born, and I don’t even know his name. I have another younger brother, Balthazar, and two younger sisters, Hannah and Anna. They think I died, that’s what Samandriel was forced to tell them. I miss them dearly, especially Gabriel. He was like a father to me, and practically raised me.”

As he talked, Castiel’s blue eyes sank deep into sorrow. When he finished, he was slightly crying. He sniffed and continued to tend to Dean’s wounds, which were stinging a lot less. 

Dean stared at this man in shock. While he couldn’t have been a couple years older than Dean, so maybe twenty five around, he had faced so much tragedy. Dean grabbed Castiel’s hand. Castiel looked up in shock. Dean smiled softly and slowly wiped his eyes. “It will be alright,” he whispered.

Castiel smiled, more tears streaming down his face. “How can you be so sure?” he asked.

Dean grinned. “Because I am Dean Fucking Winchester."


	2. Chapter 2

Hey guys just saying I will not be able to update until like August or September or something my parents found out that I am gay and so they took away everything. I managed to find my old iPod, so that is how I am doing this, but I can't write a story on here, it is way to small. So sorry for the inconvenience. I will return as soon as possible, promise. Love, Rose


	3. The only remnants of my broken home are with you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am back!! This chapter is a bit shorter, but honestly I just wanted to update it as soon as possible. I will try to post the next chapter as soon as possible, I promise. Sorry again for not being able to upload sooner.  
> WARNING: This chapter goes a bit more in depth with the torture. I had a hard time writing it, so be warned.

Dean screamed as he felt the knife on his thigh. He watched blood spill into the cup. Alastair took his finger into the cup and tasted his blood. “Not quite ripe, pretty boy. Maybe Angel would like to try.” He smacked his lips.

Cas came forward with a knife. Dean caught his eye and nodded slightly. Alastair did not notice, seeing as he was looking at Castiel. But Dean was trying to convey a message to him.  _ Don’t worry, just do it. I trust you. Just get it over with it. _

Fortunately, Cas seemed to get the message, even if he didn’t look happy about it. He picked up the knife and came towards Dean. Dean took a deep breath and prepared himself. Castiel’s blue eyes bore down on Dean. He tried not to squirm as his gaze raked his body, as Alistair had made it his duty to not-so-carefully cut away Dean’s clothes. Cas raised the knife and sliced Dean’s arms. As he was doing so, Dean noticed scars on Cas himself. And not just from knives. From cigars, whips, and hands. So Cas was still getting- “AAAAAAHHHHH” Dean screamed as Alastair came from behind and stabbed his arm.

“Like that, Angel,” Alastair snarled.

Castiel's eyes widened. Dean looked up at him, trying to tell him that he was ok. It was hard to do when he wasn’t, but Dean had to do the look on Sam after dad was drunk. Castiel didn’t look like he quite believed it, but he wasn’t crying, so that was good. “Alright, pretty boy, let's turn you over.”

Dean was rolled over, much to his dismay. His new cuts and old ones stretch uncomfortably. He heard Castiel gasp, but he didn’t know what to expect, as he was facing the blood soaked board. He heard a crack, and then felt a searing red hot pain on his back. Dean screamed, despite his efforts not to. Tears welled up in his eyes.  _ Remember, Sammy’s life is dependent on me being strong. _ Dean gritted his teeth and started counting the whips. 2, 3, 6, 10, 15, 19, Dean braced himself for the 20th, and heard a crack. He heard a scream that wasn’t his, and realized it hadn’t been him the whip had hit. He struggled to lift his head, and looked over.

Alastair was looking angrily at Cas, who was cradling his arm. Dean was surprised. Castiel had taken a whip lash for him? They hardly knew each other. They met three days ago. They talked at night. They comforted each other, both prisoners in this dungeon. And now Castiel had taken a whip lash for him. Wow. 

Alastair shoved Castiel against the wall. “Oh, you like being whipped so much, you bitch? Well take this!!” Alastair growled.

Alastair ripped off Castiel’s shirt, and starting beating him. Dean cried out as Cas tried to escape. After what seemed like forever, Alastair finally stopped. “That is what you get, you fucking bastard,” he shouted.

Castiel laid whimpering on the floor. Alastair dropped the whip. “CROWLEY!!” he called out.

A couple of seconds later, the man that escorted Dean to the throne room appeared. “Take them to the worst dungeon room. I don’t care what you do to them. Feed them if you must. I am done with them today,” Alastair spat.

Crowley bowed low. “Anything you say,  _ sir _ ,” he said.

Crowley hauled Castiel to his feet and whistled for another person. A somewhat pretty girl came in. “Meg, get the pretty one. Not him, I got Cassy here. I mean the green eyed one,” Crowley snapped.

Meg came over and unstrapped Dean. As she forced him up, his muscles and skin groaned. “Come on, you,” she rushed Dean.

After what seemed like days of agony, Dean was dropped on a bed. He heard the cell door being closed, and the click of the key locking them in.

After Crowley and Meg’s footprints were gone, Dean looked over to Castiel. He was surprisingly on the same bed. Dean had not even noticed. “Are you alright, Dean?” Cas asked.

Dean was surprised. “Me? You are the one who just got beaten up for me? Thank you- by the way,” Dean croaked out.

Cas shrugged, and turned to face Dean. “I am fine. My only regret is I didn’t intervene sooner,” his voice shook.

Dean was surprised to see Cas cry. “Hey, look, we are in a tough situation. You are fine,” Dean reassured. Cas just cried harder. “Alright, come here buddy.”

Dean awkwardly scooted over, ignoring his body screaming in pain. He wrapped one arm around Cas, letting the pain wash over him. Cas started sobbing onto Dean’s chest. Dean felt some tears well up in his eyes, and let them fall. Why? Why was life so hard? Why did this have to happen to them, or more importantly, Cas. Dean, he could understand why him. But not Castiel. Never Castiel. Never in a million years.

Castiel had stopped crying, but his face was still wet. “Dean, I’m sorry. I-I failed you. I, I don’t deserve your comfort, or love, or-” Cas choked out.

“You deserve everything, Cas. You are the most amazing human I have ever met. We have only known each other for a little while, but you are the most selfless person ever. I will make sure we get through this. You will see your family again. And I promise, no matter what, I will get you home,” Dean swore.

Castiel smiled for the first time that day. It was the most beautiful thing Dean had ever seen. He was stuck in hell, but there was still beauty in the flames. He inched closer, and somehow, miraculously, they were kissing. Castiel’s lips were chapped, but at that moment, they were heaven. Dean instinctively held on to Cas tighter, ignoring his arms screaming. Cas then parted slowly. “As long as you here, I am home,” he whispered. 

Dean smiled softly. “And I with you,” he whispered back, and kissed him again.


End file.
